


Sacrifice

by Avelera



Series: After Uprising [3]
Category: Pacific Rim (Movies)
Genre: Aftermath of Possession, Hurt/Comfort, Interrogation, M/M, Mind Control Aftermath & Recovery, Newton Geiszler Recovery Arc, POV Hermann Gottlieb, Possession, Post-Movie: Pacific Rim: Uprising (2018)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24131269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Avelera/pseuds/Avelera
Summary: Hermann learns what Newt went through to protect him from the Precursors and offers what he can in return.
Relationships: Newton Geiszler/Hermann Gottlieb
Series: After Uprising [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1285127
Comments: 15
Kudos: 70





	Sacrifice

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sarah1281](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sarah1281/gifts).



> This fic is based on a prompt that, as usual, got a bit away from me.
> 
> From Sarah1281: In the course of saving Newt, Hermann learns Newt would intentionally return to precursor control before he’d accept that happening to Hermann. 
> 
> This fic is placed in my "After Uprising" series but does not require you to have read the others. The stories are loosely related along the same rough timeline of events, but the information needed to understand any given story is encapsulated within the story.

It was only after weeks of failure by the PPDC-authorized interrogators that Jake Pentecost finally allowed Hermann into Newton’s cell to try his own luck. 

Hermann had watched the videos of previous interrogations to prepare—thank God his clearance was high enough to do so, and thank God his work to stop the Kaiju in both wars had earned him the trust necessary to see Newton at all, even if this meeting was solely for the purpose of gleaning whatever information he could for the PPDC. 

Hermann's fingers shivered around the head of his cane but he kept his expression resolutely severe as he opened the heavy iron door to Newton’s cell. His documents for the occasion were in a manila envelope he held under one arm, and he glanced over the reading glasses perched on his nose at the man chained by his wrists to the metal table. At least the PPDC had freed Newton from that horrifying chair, but this minimal step up did not make the sight of his former lab mate in chains any easier.

Newton, or rather the entity that inhabited his body, leered at Hermann as he entered. The fine tailored suit Newt had worn as an executive of Shao Industries was replaced with an orange prison jumpsuit. His tattoos stood out sharp against the table’s metallic surface, adding to the disorienting image of Newt as some sort of hardened criminal. A preposterous notion. After all, Newton was an academic, no matter how hard he tried to project himself as some sort of punk or a “rockstar”. 

Yet as Hermann drew closer, the notion that he was sitting down with Newt at all... faded. There was something in the way the Precursors wore Newton’s face, a shift in the muscles of his cheek, a different manner of clenching his jaw perhaps, such that it hardly looked like Newton’s face at all. It was a wonder that he had ever mistaken the two for one another, now that the differences were so stark. Unless the Precursors were such excellent mimics in the past ten years that in fact he hadn’t once spoken to Newton at all, and only now had they given up the pretense. He tried not to shudder at the thought.

“Dr. Gottlieb, so nice to see you,” the Precursors smirked, showing all of Newton’s teeth. “I didn’t realize the PPDC allowed conjugal visits these days.” 

Hermann ignored this jab and hung his cane on the back of the chair before taking his seat. He opened the file and spread out an array of photographs. His hands remained gratifyingly steady. “Shall we dispense with the niceties and pick up where your last interrogator left off?”

The grin broadened over Newton's face and a corner of Hermann marveled at how little he felt at the sight. The smile was so obviously not Newton’s that it barely registered more than a hint of nostalgia or pain. He really might as well have been speaking to a total stranger who only vaguely resembled Newton. “They want _you_ to interrogate us now? How _delicious_. We’ve been waiting a long time to get our hands on you.” 

Hermann raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “Indeed? And practicing your two-bit Hannibal Lecter impression in anticipation, I see. ” He fanned the pictures further. Six women looked back, mostly of Asian descent, some wearing Shao uniforms, others simple street clothes or business suits. “Well then, by way of foreplay, why don’t you answer a few questions for me, hmm? Starting with these women.”

The creature barely glanced down before resuming his unsettling stare that never wavered from Hermann’s eyes, as if wondering what they would taste like. “Never seen them before in my life. You _humans._ You think you’re so unique, so _special_. As if any of you _matter_ …”

“Which one of them is Alice?” Hermann said calmly. 

The Precursors stopped. The false smile flickered. Hermann pressed. “It’s only a matter of time before we suss out which of these women is your associate. You obviously could not have accomplished your plan alone, and Dr. Geiszler made frequent reference to an “Alice”, claiming to be in a relationship with her. However, there’s no record of any woman going in or out of his flat, no call logs, and no photographic evidence of her existence. So, she must have been someone he could meet in person without suspicion, someone he worked with, and… I beg your pardon, did I say something funny?”

The Precursors’ chuckle was a dry, rasping thing as they bent over the metal table, gaze flickering up to Hermann. Hermann’s heart clenched at the sound. It was not Newton’s laugh, not really, but Newton, his Newton, had laughed often, usually at Hermann’s expense. To see Newton’s body laugh, even when it was so _wrong_ in every way, was to remember another time. He would give anything to hear Newton, the real Newton, laugh again, even if it was at Hermann's expense. 

Hermann forced an exasperated sigh, as if weary of their mockery rather than heartsick. “Your cooperation is not required. In fact, I find it ludicrous that interrogation of this sort is attempted at all. Your kind are, after all, barely more intelligent than the Kaiju brutes you controlled. It’s obvious you needed Dr. Geiszler’s expertise to make your ridiculous plan progress even as far as it did before your designs failed so spectacularly…”

There was a _bang_ and Hermann jolted despite himself, at the Precursors slamming Newt’s hand down on the metal table. “ _We required no_ help _, least of all from Geiszler_. _”_ They seemed to catch themselves, the raw fury melting back into that leering smile. “ _As if this pathetic little_ joke _of a man could stop whimpering long enough to be of any use.”_

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Hermann said with affected boredom, glancing back at the papers before him, unseeing as he kept his peripherals on their body language. His blood pounded in his ears, adrenaline surging through his system. 

Their leer deepened and their voice… shifted, into Newton’s register, a perfect mimicry that made Hermann’s stomach clench.“Don’t hurt them please, I’ll do anything! I’ll be good, just don’t hurt anyone! _”_ they whined. Then their voices slid, back into their own snarling register. “ _You should have heard him the day of our invasion. All that screaming and_ crying _. Just_ begging _us to stop.”_

The creature smirked up at Hermann from under Newton’s brow, like a naughty child reveling in the fact he could not be punished. Hermann schooled his expression, tapped his papers on the table to straighten them, and forced the racing of his heart to slow with a few deep breaths.

“Interesting,” Hermann finally murmured and, with outward calm he did not feel, he rose to his feet. He turned to the cameras overlooking the interrogation room and waved to catch the guard’s attention. “I believe that little display confirms my theory that Dr. Geiszler was an unwilling accomplice. Would you be so kind as to provide me with a copy of those last five minutes of footage? Thank you.”

He reached for the door handle when _their_ voice rasped behind him. 

“ _That’s all? Don’t you want to know who_ Alice _is? Or should we say,_ what _she is?_ ” 

Hermann turned back and hoped the mad pounding of his heart wasn’t visible on his face. “What for? The only purpose in finding her was to determine whether or not Dr. Geiszler was a willing accomplice to your activities, and you rather neatly saved us the trouble. I imagine the women from the photos will be brought in for questioning, and the remainder of the investigation will be standard police work. Your assistance is no longer required, much good that it ever was.”

Fury tightened the creature’s face, utterly alien on Newton’s soft features, but then they sighed and shrugged ruefully. “Fine, you got us! It’s true, Geiszler sure didn’t _want_ to be there,” the Precursors said, sliding into Newt’s vocal register, that unsettling perfect mimicry. They opened his eyes and smirked up at Hermann. “But don’t you want to know why it was so _easy_ to keep him under our thumb all those years?”

Hermann hesitated, his fingertips brushing the cold metal of the door handle. He did want to know, it was the exact evidence he needed to clear Newton’s name, but why would the Precursors volunteer such information? It must be a trap, but Hermann found himself turning back around, slowly taking his seat once more and folding his hands on the table. “Go on.”

They settled back into the chair, the chain around the cuffs drawing taught as they slouched. “Well, first you gotta understand, _Herms_ , there was never a _woman_ in his life, and definitely not one named 'Alice’. That performance was just for you. We couldn’t have you _poking around_ and you were oh so easy to push away. So jealous, so _selfish_. You just couldn’t bear the thought of there being another lover, worse, a _girlfriend_ in his life, could you? Just the mention of _Alice_ and you’d run away with your tail between your legs, back to your little lab and your little _experiments_.”

Nausea churned in Hermann’s gut. He raised an unimpressed eyebrow. “I never realized your kind had such a flair for melodrama. Did it ever occur to you that perhaps, as a friend, I was simply respecting Newton’s privacy and allowing him the dignity of his choice of partners?”

“Is that so? Do _friends_ usually stop calling for years and _years_ just because you invited them over to meet your new girlfriend?” the Precursors laughed. Hermann had to remind himself they’d spent ten years working at Shao Industries, pretending to be Newton to varying degrees. He shouldn’t be surprised that they had a baseline understanding of idioms and human cultural nuance just because the mask had come off. “But then, you never were a very good friend to him, were you? Not like he was to you.”

Hermann tensed, feeling the surveillance cameras like they were eyes boring into the back of his neck. 

“ _Leave Hermann alone,_ ” the Precursors whined. It was Newt’s voice but higher-pitched even than usual, screeching and mocking. “I’ll do _anything_ you want. I’ll be _good_. Just don’t hurt _Hermann_.” They shrugged. “Geiszler was an easy tool to capture, given his fascination with our emissaries. That fascination made him receptive to speaking with us, made him _curious_. You must have guessed that he wasn’t the first to try to contact us directly like that. He was just the first that _survived_. But we always had a backup in case he broke like all the others… You.”

Hermann jolted half out of his chair, a rush of cold dread flooding his system as the Precursors cocked their head to the side and studied him.

“It’s clear that we made a mistake. You really would have made the far better emissary, even with that failed body of yours. So _smart_ , smarter than Geiszler, and in a field that actually _mattered_ \--oh how he _hated_ to be reminded of that. 

“You were so deliciously _alone_ too. No family, at least none that cared about you, no lovers, no _friends_. The perfect base of operations, without all those social calls, all that faking. Hiding out in someone as unpopular as you would have made our work so much _easier_. Maybe we should have ignored all of Geiszler’s pleading, all his _bargaining_ to keep you free. But then, he was that much easier to work with whenever we threatened you. All that defiance, all the _fight_ in him, would just melt away. Imagine how much harder he would have fought at the end, if you weren’t there. If he didn’t need to protect _you_. Would you have done the same? Come back to us willingly, again and again and _again,_ just to keep him free?”

The Precursors looked past Hermann, straight at the surveillance camera over the door. “Geiszler sold out humanity to protect _you_ , Dr. Gottlieb. He would have let the rest of the world burn. So are you really _so_ _certain_ you want to try to use that footage to clear his name?”

Hermann swallowed, and then realized he’d been staring, transfixed, throughout the creature’s speech. He had fallen right into their hands. 

He scrambled upright, then bent to gather his papers, his head spinning. He should have left as soon as he had what he needed. The Precursors knew him too well, they had seen inside _his_ mind as well as Newton’s, and muddied the waters of Newton’s innocence with their lies. They had to be lies, but now he’d have to explain to the PPDC that these creatures, these _monsters_ had failed to destroy Earth and now they were trying to destroy Newton, he needed to _think…_

“Oh, Hermann,” the Precursors said from behind him, in a sing-song that sounded _so much_ like Newton that his heart felt as if it was being torn neatly in half. He turned despite himself, hand still clenched around the cold metal of the door handle. “A little gift for you. Why don’t you check the footage from the raid on Geiszler’s apartment? I trust there _was_ a raid? It might help you sleep better at night, and stop asking such _stupid_ questions about _Alice_.” 

Hermann froze, eyebrows furrowing as he processed their words, before he caught himself and pulled the door open, and slammed it behind him.

* * *

There was footage of the raid on Newton’s flat, of course there was, and the PPDC was all too happy to turn a copy over to Hermann if it would help with his interrogation of the Precursors. 

He despised it, this violation of Newton’s privacy. Hermann had steadfastly refused to watch the footage when he first learned of that raid, and in the subsequent confusion around Newton’s capture and whereabouts, he’d forgotten it entirely. Part of him had still wanted to believe there was an explanation for all this, one other than the glaring fact that Newt had been taken, and imprisoned, then used as their puppet for _ten years_ while Hermann did nothing. 

He almost would have rather learned that Newton was a willing accomplice. That the Precursors had seduced him with money and power, or perhaps that they had tricked him using his love of Kaiju, offering him knowledge, the answers he had always craved. In both versions, Hermann had to believe those creatures had hidden their intentions to destroy the world from Newton.

Yet he knew such scenarios were senseless to pursue, hypotheticals his brain created to soothe his conscience, performing the same mental acrobatics that had allowed him to overlook what should have been Newton’s obvious role in the creation of the rogue Shao Jaeger. 

Because part of Hermann wanted to believe Newton had been happy all those years, perhaps even unaware of the Precursors inside his head until the final hours of their plan. Or perhaps—as Hermann had considered in a bleak moment, at the bottom of a half a bottle of vodka—Newton had even joyfully taken the side of Earth’s enemies, wholeheartedly embracing their goal of Earth’s destruction. At least such nihilism would mean that Newton hadn’t been in pain all those years. That he hadn’t suffered. 

The raid footage was from a camera mounted on one of the strike team’s helmets, and the shaky, jerking movements roiled Hermann’s already nauseated stomach. The soldiers kicked the door down and an empty, high-class penthouse overlooking Shanghai swung into view. Hermann frowned in confusion at the sight of the flat's sparse decor. It looked as if the flat was still decorated with the staging furniture it was sold with. Hermann half wondered if they’d entered the wrong home, for there was no possible way this was where _Newton Geiszler_ lived. 

The strike team cleared the rooms one by one, entryway, kitchen, living room, before turning to the bedroom up a short flight of stairs. 

There he saw it, the final piece of the bedeviling puzzle of how the Precursors had taken Newton in the first place:

A Kaiju brain floating in yellow formaldehyde. Beside it a Pons unit, linked to the tank by massive black and red cables that led to a chair ringed with junk food wrappers, as if Newton had lived in that chair, as if he hadn’t been allowed to leave, even to feed himself. 

And across the glass surface of the tank in a childish, blood-red scrawl, a single word: ALICE. 

Hermann was up out of his chair and it clattered to the floor behind him. His leg throbbed as he stumbled the short distance to the bathroom, falling to his knees before the toilet to retch up the little that remained in his stomach from that morning. All he managed was yellow bile, and at the sight he retched again, seeing in its hue the pulsing, grasping thing in the tank.

* * *

**A Month Later**

Newton had asked to see him. 

The email with the summons had arrived during one of the few hours in the lab that Hermann been able to steal to dedicate himself to what was, ostensibly, his job at the PPDC. He was halfway to the door before he realized he’d forgotten his cane, a vestige of Newton left in his mind from their Drift, and he almost considered leaving it behind until he realized doing so would only slow him down. Newton’s moments of freedom were so fleeting that he did not dare delay even for a second, what might be a second Newton didn’t have.

Day by day, the Precursor’s hold on Newton appeared to loosen— _did_ loosen—Hermann told himself, even as he dreaded the possibility that he could be wrong, that once again he saw only what he wanted to see. The Precursors had played the long game for ten years, who was to say they would not play it again, giving little hints day by day, drip by drip, that Newt was returning to himself when in truth they only began the second phase of their game? 

No, Hermann had to believe this was really Newt, that their Drift gave him _some_ edge in seeing the truth, and that was why the Precursors had worked so hard to keep him away. Why they had to create the fiction of _Alice_ to do so, the abomination floating in a bile-yellow tank that Newton, or the Precursors, or some unholy mix of the two had spoken of as if “she” were a lover?

He arrived just as the interrogator left, with a glance at Hermann cast over her shoulder as she held the door for him. Still the PPDC attempted this farce of trying to gain tactical information from the Precursors, as if anything they said could be trusted. It wasn’t as if there was any way to verify whatever tidbits of information the creatures might let slip, and Hermann very much doubted that a single word they spoke was a “slip”, even on the day of the attacks, when they had spoken of Newt as “he” and thus revealed themselves. More likely they had hoped to torment Hermann with the realization of Newt’s possession.

But then, perhaps the PPDC knew that such tactical information would be worthless, and they kept up the charade for reasons of their own, to lure the Precursors into a trap, a false sense of superiority. Who could say? Hermann had washed his hands of the ill-conceived venture after that first disastrous attempt and dedicated himself fully to the task of operating as Newton’s legal proxy and with that the fight to clear Newton’s name.

His first action in his new role had been an official request to the PPDC to give Newton a more humane cell, which thank God they had granted, perhaps after realizing they were under scrutiny and could be held accountable for any ill-treatment. As Hermann stepped into the room, he found Newt sitting on the sparse bed on the other side of a pane of glass, in a room that Hermann had seen more often lately than his own quarters. 

Newton’s face was in his hands, his hair was lank and greasy as he scrubbed it back from his eyes and looked up at the sound of the door closing behind Hermann. A faint, familiar smile twitched at the edge of his lips, then Newton winced, pressing his hand to his forehead as a shudder wracked his body.

Hermann was at the glass in an instant, his hand pressed up against it before Newton looked up and waved him away. 

“S’ok,” Newt rasped. “I can hold them off for maybe… twenty more minutes, I think. How you doing, buddy?”

 _Better, now that I have the chance to see you_ , Hermann thought, but as ever kept such naked sentimentality to himself. The very thought of placing pressure on Newton to reciprocate Hermann’s long-held feelings when he was in such a vulnerable state, imprisoned and totally beholden to Hermann as his legal proxy, was frankly obscene and Newt had enough to worry about as it was. Hermann kept his tone business-like, “The initial paperwork is filed for your legal defense, so you can set your mind at ease on that count. I imagine the details will be classified from the public for your safety, but at least now you can’t simply _disappear_ down some bureaucratic rabbit hole. At least, not if I have anything to say about it, and now we have the paper trail to prove you were in custody. Furthermore, I… excuse me, what are you smiling at?”

“You,” Newt said. He was leaning forward, his chin on his hand as he looked up at Hermann and there was a… softness to his expression that Hermann was having difficulty dismissing as his own imagination. “It’s been a long time since I got to see you all worked up about some dumb paperwork problem. I’ve missed it.”

 _I’ve missed_ you, Hermann thought and looked down and away from Newt so the sentiment would not show on his face. _So much._ “I wish I could say the same for some of _your_ more annoying habits. My lab has been silent as the grave without the occasional explosion to liven things up. I even played some truly obnoxious rock music once or twice, just to remind myself that what I was feeling was most likely Stockholm Syndrome.”

“Yeah… because what else could it be, right?”

“I have no idea. It’s a wonder I’m even here after what you put me through in that lab, day in and day out.” _Granted, I hadn’t been much better in return, always sniping at Newton’s research, pulling pigtails just to keep his attention on me. To show off_. Hermann chuckled under his breath and looked up to share the joke with Newton.

But Newton wasn’t smiling. He was staring at Hermann, face pale and shocked, before it twisted into ugly rage that was like nothing the Precursors had ever leveled at him. It was far too human, too mingled with shock and hurt. “Seriously? Whatever, just… leave the paperwork. I’ll take care of it later.”

Hermann startled. “Newton! No, that wasn’t…I’m sorry. None of that is true, Newton.”

“No, it isn’t true. For starters, because you wouldn’t know the first fucking thing about real Stockholm Syndrome.” Newton’s jaw muscles twitched, his expression locked tight. “Fuck. Nevermind, forget I said anything. I’ll be out of your life soon anyway, just gimme a few more days until I can string together a couple hours alone in my own head!” 

“Newton, don’t be absurd. I don’t mind helping you in the slightest, Indeed, I feel privileged to be able to help you during this difficult time…”

“Ugh, stop it!”

“Stop _what_?” 

“Stop it! Just shut up, stop… _pretending_ to be all buddy-buddy, like you don't actually hate my guts!” Newton snarled, and jabbed his hand, pointing at the wall as if to take in the world beyond it. “There’s thousands of people out there, _dead_ because I let the Precursors inside my head, and I know for a _fact_ that some of them were your friends! I’m not an idiot, I saw your mask slip just then: you can’t stand to be around me. You know it, I know it, so drop the fucking facade that you’re doing all this for me out of… pity or for old times sake or whatever and not that you’re playing good cop bad cop for the PPDC hoping that I’ll finally crack and spill what I know about the Anteverse to my old lab partner!

"I don’t know _anything_ , ok? The Precursors thought Earth would be in ashes by now, there was no _Plan B_ , not one that I got a look at, anyway! The connection is fading and even if it wasn’t, the Precursors had me locked out half the time! I’d tell you if I could, I’d _help_ if I could, but I _can’t_! Did you guys forget that I fucking _volunteered_ for the PPDC and gave them ten years of my fucking life? I’d give you guys _everything_ I could to give you just a scrap of hope for your fucking invasion plan, which by the way, is _stupid_ and suicidal and you’re going to get everyone on Earth _killed_ if you go through with it! That’s not the Precursors talking that’s _Newt fucking Geiszler_ begging you guys to use your fucking heads! So I don’t know what to tell you, Hermann, except that you can at least drop the act of pretending to like me or wanting to help me or whatever, because I’ve had a _really bad year_ , in case you haven’t noticed, and having you of all people fucking with me right now is just another level of shit I don’t need!”

Newton buried his face in his hands, his breathing loud and ragged, and Hermann heard the loud sniffle before he raised his eyes again and scraped a tattooed forearm across his nose. “Well? Come on, you’re free now. Just go! Tell the PPDC to send Tendo next time, see how far he gets! Hell, it’d be nice to see him after all this time.”

Hermann’s mouth worked, unsure what to say in the face of that explosion. How plausible it must seem from Newton’s perspective, and yet how untrue. “What are you _talking_ about, Newton? The PPDC did not send me here to interrogate you. Indeed, I have every reason to believe they’re quite miffed with me at the moment over this trial that I am, by the way, prosecuting on your behalf so you can one day be free of this barbaric cell! I realize that likely doesn’t inspire confidence if you truly believe me to be some sort of double-agent, but I hope you know that I had to fight through no small amount of legal red tape to have the chance to see you in the first place, and I have no intention of abandoning you again, even when you ask so _graciously_.”

Newt snorted, a choked sound, and his voice was thick as he drawled, “Oh great, so you’re real plan is to get back at me by sticking _around_? Fuck, I guess I should have seen that coming.”

Hermann slammed the tip of his cane against the floor, and the resulting _bang_ jolted Newton in an admittedly satisfying manner. “What is this about, Newton? I made a terrible joke and I’m sorry, but what on earth has you so convinced that I have anything but your best interests at heart? I _know_ you were an unwilling host for the Precursors, I know that the attacks were not your fault, so _why_ do you think I would bear you any ill will?”

He had hoped to snap Newton out of whatever mood he had gotten into, perhaps turn the conversation to more pleasant topics in the short time Newton had left before the next inevitable onslaught by the Precursors. But at Hermann’s tirade, Newton only seemed to grow more agitated, his face flushing red as he snapped, “What else am I supposed to believe, huh? How am I supposed to believe you or-or _anybody_ wants anything to do with me after all that, huh? The Earth was almost _destroyed_ , Hermann, _again_ , and you all saw _me_ try to destroy it, and even if you believe it wasn’t me, it’s not like I stopped the Precursors in time! And now all the PPDC wants is to pick my brain for anything they can get about the Anteverse and here _you_ are every day with your stupid folder and your stupid hair and your stupid _face_ and I’m supposed to believe you’re just… _talking_ to me?! Like _nothing_ happened, like I didn’t try to _kill you?_ What am I supposed to do with that? How the hell am I supposed to believe you give a shit about me at all except for how you can _use_ me for the invasion, when even I can’t figure out a single fucking reason why _anybody_ would?”

Halfway through, Newt began to choke back tears, and by the end he was gasping between words, pausing to wipe his arm over his nose again, his other hand rising to clutch at his hair. Hermann’s own throat clenched at the sight, his hand was white-knuckled on his cane by the end, for the effort it took not to tear down the glass wall between them with his bare hands. 

Even still, he could not entirely keep his voice from shaking as he said, “Did the Precursors tell you that?”

Newt gave a choked laugh. “What does it matter, if I can tell from basic fucking powers of observation?”

“It matters. Did the _Precursors_ tell you that no one cares about you, that _I_ don’t care about you?” Rage like fire turned over in Hermann’s chest, like the core of a Jaeger flaring to life and ready to destroy those _creatures_. He could feel his veins burning and he bit off each word, “ _Tell me_ , Newton.”

“I…” Newt’s eyebrows rose and he pulled back on the bed minutely, as if he somehow feared Hermann could strike him through the glass. “I guess, maybe? It’s not like it wasn’t obvious that…”

Pain rattled up Hermann’s arm and he realized in shock that he’d slammed his fist against the glass wall of Newt’s prison, hard. He swore and shook out his hand, only to see Newt, pressed back against the far wall, staring wide-eyed at Hermann.

“They know _nothing_ , Newton, and what’s worse they are _lying_ to you for their own purposes,” Hermann snarled. “Shall I tell you about the weekly calls I’ve had with your father and uncle, _assuring_ them that I will do everything in my power to get you out of this so you can see them again? Or the dozens of signatures I have _already_ gathered from veterans of the Hong Kong Shatterdome, testifying to your character and the long hours you worked fighting to save the world during the Kaiju War? Or perhaps the fact that Dr. Shao _herself_ has agreed to lend her testimony to your defense—when it would be entirely in her interest to lay the sabotage of her company at your feet—because as an honorable woman she cannot allow such a lie to stand when she saw for herself how those creatures used you?”

“Liwen, _honorable_?” Newt snorted. “Are we talking about the same…”

“Shut _up_ ,” Hermann snapped. “I have been fighting the war against those _creatures_ for my entire adult life, Newton, and I will be _damned_ before I will give them the chance of tear down one of our own. So you tell them, Newton, you _tell_ them they can go to _hell_ the next time they dare lie to you and bloody _gaslight_ you into believing you are unwanted, that you aren’t one of the heroes that helped us save the world from them, else you wouldn’t have been in this situation in the first place. I’ve spoken to these Precursors, Newton, and they _despise_ you. They will do _anything_ in their power to destroy you now that they don't get to keep you and by God, I will not let them!” 

Hermann realized he was inches away from the glass, intermittently fogging it with his breath from each furious word and he took a step back. Shudders of adrenaline raced through his body and he almost didn’t dare look too closely at Newton for a reaction. The man was pressed entirely to the far wall now, staring at him. 

What had he been thinking? After ten _years_ of who knew what sort of horrors and trauma, he’d _shouted_ at Newton like a lunatic? Like nothing had changed and they were still arguing at the top of their lungs across that idiotic line in the Shatterdome lab? He needed to apologize, immediately, and take his leave before he terrorized Newton further. He opened his mouth to do just that when Newt, as usual, interrupted him. But that was not what drew Hermann up short. Rather it was the tone, halting and soft. 

“You…” Newton began. “You would do that for me?”

Hermann stared. There was a look on Newton’s face, a question, as if asking if Hermann remembered a night long ago in a rainswept alley.

“Well, with worldwide destruction a certain alternative…” he echoed but stopped and shook his head. “Of course, Newton. Then, as now, there was never _any_ chance that I wouldn’t.”

Newton went quiet at this and more tentatively than Hermann had ever seen him, Newt whispered, “Why?”

 _Because I would do anything for you,_ was not the right answer now. It wouldn’t be fair, it wasn’t the right time, and might never be the right time, even as the excuse sounded hollow. He couldn’t tell the whole truth, but he couldn’t lie, not to a man who had suffered so many lies. “Because I know you would do the same for me.”

Newton’s brow drew together in confusion, then twisted in despair. “You don’t know that. You _can’t_ know that. After everything I did for them? After Hong Kong and… and Alice, and almost fucking _killing_ you that…That’s just bad science, Hermann. You’ve got _no reason_ to believe I’m the kind of person who would ever help you, so maybe try again with something a little more convincing.”

Hermann cleared his throat. “I didn’t have to guess. The Precursors, ah, told me.”

Newt’s expression went blank. “Told you?”

“What you did. To protect me. Even when it meant going back to them.”

“They told you.” Newt stared in incomprehension that slowly shifted to horror. “They _told_ you and you’re still _here_?”

Hermann frowned, drawing back from the glass slightly. “Of course I am. They told me that you returned to them—that you _sacrificed_ yourself to stop them from taking me as well. I truly can’t imagine greater heroism. To be in such pain and to be offered a way out by trading places with another, but refusing to do so? I’m humbled.”

But Newton just looked sick, his eyes wide as he stared up at Hermann. “It wasn’t that simple. I didn’t just go _back_ to them Hermann, I _begged_ for it. Over and over because it felt _good_. It was _selfish_ , ok? I did it because I needed to know someone was out there, someone smart enough to stop me if I couldn’t stop them in time, and if they took you… don’t you _see?_ If I had fought them harder, instead of expecting someone else to stop them for me, I might have been able to save the whole _world_ and instead, I could barely save one person, because I wasn’t strong enough to fight back, and you _still_ almost died! Thousands of people _did_ die! It wasn’t _heroic,_ you should hate my guts for not doing more!”

“You were suffering, alone in the dark with no one to help you, with your freedom offered to you and all you had to do was turn another person in, just one, someone who had failed to help you, who never even noticed you were taken until it was too late, and _still_ you protected me? Newton, under those circumstances, you would have been justified in _any_ action taken to save yourself. That you found the strength to protect someone else is… astonishing. The burden of the world is not on your shoulders, that was _our_ burden, and we failed _you_.”

Newton gave a frustrated groan and buried his face in his hands, pulling them down to his mouth and when he looked back up at Hermann his face was blotchy and red but the tears had stopped. He opened his mouth and Hermann leaned forward, fingertips pressed to the glass. “I want to believe you so badly right now,” Newt wheezed. “But I don’t know what to think anymore. I’ve had ten years of having to jump when they snapped their fingers, or…or believe them if they said the sky was green, because they controlled _everything_ in my life. And now I’ve got you and you’re telling me they’re wrong, that they’ve always been wrong, and I _know_ that but… they weren’t wrong about everything. They weren’t wrong about how none of you noticed. They weren’t wrong about… a lot of things about _me_ and they liked to prove it. Now you’re telling me that they’re wrong, that they’re lying to tear me down and that… somehow under all this, after all that shit, I’m still _me_ and it literally sounds fucking crazy to me right now, Hermann.”

“They _were_ wrong, Newton, and what’s more…”

“I know,” Newt took a deep, shuddering breath and scrubbed his hand back through his hair, looking exhausted. “I know, it's just… I think I'm going to need to hear it more than once?”

He looked up at Hermann, hesitant and frightened, as if this was the most difficult thing he’d ever asked. As if it were unthinkable to him for Hermann to say anything other than no, that it was too much, too outrageous and onerous a request. 

“Is that all?” Hermann forced an upward, crooked smile at the corner of his lips that he hoped was comforting. “Newton, please, as if it has ever been a trial for me to tell you every day, repeatedly, when you’re wrong.”

Newt snorted, as if despite himself, and seemed surprised at his own reactions. “Ok… ok then, go ahead,” his voice was a little stronger, his chin rose and there was a glimmer in his eye of something familiar. A challenge. “Tell me I’m wrong. I think I brought this on myself. I can’t imagine how anyone out there wouldn’t blame me for the attacks and I think they’d be right. I think you hate me, that you can’t do anything else but hate me for what happened, for everything I’ve ever said to you and for everything I did.

"I’m… I’m afraid I’m going to die in this cell and no one will ever mourn me, not even my family, not even you, and I think that the Precursors were right when they called me a pathetic little joke of a man who would always come crawling back to them. Who would never be free. So go on then. Tell me I'm wrong.”

“You are wrong,” Hermann pronounced. “And I will be here, every day to tell you how wrong you are. I will provide empirical evidence and we will study it together just so I can rub your nose in the results. I will bring in witnesses once I’m able, and you will see your father again, who misses you dearly. I will show you how wrong you are when we win this fight and you walk out of here a free man. And in the years to come, I will still be there, every day to tell you how wrong you are, and every day beyond that for as long as you need the reminder. You will marvel at all the many ways and means I will find to show you that you are wrong.” 

Newt coughed a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he looked up at Hermann. “Yeah… ok but before all that, I’m gonna need you to tell me I’m wrong tomorrow,” Newt licked his lips, as he did when he was nervous, in those rare moments when he considered his words. “Can you tell me again tomorrow? Just say yes or no. This is your out in case you just realized how crazy all of that sounded. I won’t hold it against you if you bail now.”

“Yes.” _For as long as you’ll have me._ “I will be there.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you have even a few moments to spare, please consider leaving a comment!


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